


Genuine

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Mr Fizzles - Freeform, NSFW, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 17:07:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5878837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Reader has some self-hate going on. Garth cheers her up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Genuine

You sighed into your coffee, tapping the toe of your uncomfortable dress shoes against the table leg. Garth was running late back from the morgue, and you were getting a bit impatient. You’d scoped out the sheriffs of the small town you’d been called to on this stupid hunt, and they knew nothing. It didn’t seem like there was anything going on here, so you were sat feeling frumpy as hell in your stupid FBI get up for nothing. Stretching in your seat, you scowled at your reflection in the window, hating the way everything about your body seemed….misshapen and out of proportion. Ugh, maybe you should go on another diet. Even though this lifestyle was hardly one that came with a handy guide to which towns had a WeightWatchers meet.

Your gaze moved away from the window and your hated reflection, landing on the clock. He was ten minutes late. But he’d get here and you’d forgive him as always. Another ten minutes and you were gonna hunt him down and strangle the daft but lovable hunter. He’d had a rough time since taking over from where Bobby Singer had left off and you knew the Winchesters had given him a hard time over it before finally realising that the “network” needed someone to hold it together. And Garth was the one for the job. He was smart, smarter than a lot of people gave him credit for. Maybe he had an eccentric way about him, but that was half his charm. The other half was that damn goofy smile of his.

Lost in your musings, the object of your thoughts made you jump out of your skin when he appeared at the booth, sliding into the seat opposite and holding his hand up for a coffee from the waitress.

‘Hey, Y/N. How’d it go with the sheriff?’

You smiled tightly, trying to ignore when the waitress with her stupidly perfect figure and slim waist came over, smiling to earn her extra tip as she poured the coffee and a generous glimpse of cleavage in Garth’s direction. For the most part he ignored her, but you caught the slip of his eyes when she wiggled just that way. He was male after all.

Pfft. Male. _Never catch anyone looking at you that way._ Your brain officially hated you. You felt the hot tears at the back of your eyes, and took a heavy breath, wanting to focus on the case at hand.

'No leads. Are you sure there’s a case here?’

'Sure am, darlin’.’ Garth smiled, taking a sip of his coffee. 'Three bodies. All mauled by what looks like vampires.’

'I hate vampires.’ You muttered, looking down. _Almost as much as I hate myself._

_Would you stop it?_

_Now you’re arguing with yourself._

Garth ducked his head, trying to catch your eyes. 'Hey. You okay?’

'I’m fine.’ You lied, not as smoothly as you hoped, according to the deepening frown on Garth’s face.

'You sure?’

'I’m _fine_.’ You reiterated, your voice firm. He blinked, then sat back.

'Okay. If you’re sure.’ He pulled out his notebook. 'How about we go through this case once more? See what we missed.’

*****

After a lengthy discussion about possible vampire hunting grounds, you and Garth decided to stick together and head out at night to trail some of the vamps. He had a few tricks up his sleeve, and you knew he’d been doing this a long time. Whilst you headed back to the motel, you took the opportunity to shower and change out of the horrible FBI clothes. Slipping back into your jeans and boots, with a comfortable sweater over the top of a simple vest top, you sighed, feeling a little more human.

A sharp knock on the door drew your attention to the failing daylight outside, and you grabbed your duffle bag full of weapons, shrugging on a coat as you opened the door. Garth was leaning against the doorframe, a grin everpresent on his face. 'Feel better?’ He asked, and you shrugged, wanting to get the job over with. Garth’s insistent questions had been cropping up all day, and you hated that it was showing how much things were bothering you.

Even if it had shown for most of your life.

It was best to focus on the job at hand and get on with it.

'Where we heading to?’ You asked, locking your room. 'The old barn out by the highway or the abandoned church on 67th?’

Garth didn’t say much as you both headed past reception and out into the parking lot. He unlocked the door of his old truck, and you slid into the front passenger seat, throwing your duffle onto the back seat. As your companion sat in the driver seat, he looked over at you. 'We’ll check the church first. There have been more kills in that area.’

'Fair enough.’ You replied, looking straight ahead as Garth started the truck, ambling out of the parking lot and onto the road. The church was a good twenty minutes away, and the silence in the car was becoming a little unbearable for both of you.

'I take it you still don’t wanna talk about whatever is bugging you?’ Garth started, and you sighed.

'Talking won’t fix it.’ You replied.

'Maybe it will.’

'Garth…just drop it. I know you mean well, but just…just leave it, please.’

'Ookay.’ He said, drawing the word out, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He started to hum, and you rolled your eyes, damning his eternal enthusiasm. How anyone who lived this life could have a smile on their face like Garth did all the time, you didn’t understand. The life was harsh and unforgiving and so terribly _lonely_. You’d met plenty of other hunters along the way – most of them winded up dead, in jail or in the nuthouse. There were only a few you knew had avoided that fate, and Garth was one of them. Maybe his optimism was the key.

You sighed again, and Garth stopped humming and drumming, looking over at you. 'Am I bothering you?’ He asked, genuinely concerned.

'No, it’s fine. I guess…just used to working alone.’ You smiled, but didn’t really look at him, too worried about him doing that stupid thing where he _read_ every inch of your lying face. That was one thing Garth had going for him. He would tell people the truth, whether they needed to hear it or not. Then it was often followed up with a hug. In most cases, an unwanted hug.

'Well, we’re nearly there. Hopefully we won’t have to trek out to the barn. We can kill us some vamps and you can go back to be “Lone Ranger”.’ He grinned widely and you felt your own smile becoming a little more genuine, before you caught sight of your own face in the wing mirror of the truck and immediately hated your chin, your nose, your mouth, everything. The smile dropped, and you resumed looking out of the window as Garth went back to humming a tune.

Neither of you spoke until Garth stopped the truck a little way down the road from the church. Sliding from the passenger seat, you grabbed your machete and your revolver from the duffle bag in the back, leaving the rest. The gun wouldn’t kill any of them, but the hollow-point rounds filled with dead man’s blood would slow them down some so you could chop off some heads. Garth threw you some extra bullets, and grabbed his own machete from the rear of the truck, smiling once more as he came round to stand next to you.

'You okay?’ He asked, and you rolled your eyes.

'You can stop asking me that any time.’ You replied, checking the barrel of your gun. 'I’m ready.’

'Good. Let’s go Garth some vamps.’ Your chuckle was audible as you followed the enthusiastic hunter into the woods, circling round to the back of the church. As you took up point in the trees, watching for any sign from the abandoned building, candle lights flickered in the windows and you grinned, your eyes meeting Garth’s. He held his machete up and started the slow approach to the back door that led into the rear of the church.

Seconds later, you were bursting in behind him, ignoring the spray of blood from the first vamp he decapitated, and you followed suit, killing the one coming from the side, whilst firing at the third jumping from the balcony. Garth swung and killed the fourth, and you took out the injured vampire with a spin of your blade.

'How many you think there is?’ You asked, slightly out of breath. Garth pointed behind you. You turned, and swung your weapon again, only for the vampire to tackle you into a pew, your machete skittering across the floor out of reach. Garth was then accosted by a screaming female, who jumped on his back and tried to sink her teeth into his neck. You couldn’t see what was happening as you fought with your own opponent, trying desperately to buck him off. The vampire reared back, his sharp teeth descending over his human ones, and your eyes widened.

'You look like you’d feed me for weeks.’ He grinned, and you scowled, bringing your knee up hard between his legs. He screeched and fell to the side, and you rolled away, grabbing your machete just as the vampire recovered and came for you again, your blade slicing through flesh and bone like butter. Blood splattered your face and clothes, and your face was full of thunder. Getting to your feet, you saw Garth dispatch the female, and silence fell on the church.

'Is that all of them?’ He asked.

You shrugged, and began to systematically search the building, machete raised, blood dripping down over your skin from your kills. You were raging, angry – mostly at yourself. When you didn’t turn up anything else to kill, you picked up a brick and hurled it through a window, yelling.

'Hey!’ Garth shouted, running to your side. 'Hey, Y/N. What’s wrong?’

'Nothing!’ You screamed back, feeling tears building in your eyes. Calming yourself, you wiped your machete off on the shirt of one of the dead vampires, before fixing Garth with a look. 'There’s nothing else here. Job done. Let’s go.’

His mouth set into a thin line, his eyes saying he didn’t believe you, but he followed you back to the truck regardless. The drive back to the motel was made in silence, and you both snuck past the receptionist, hoping no questions would be raised with regard to the amount of blood you were covered in.

You stopped outside your room, your fingers on the handle, ready to go in, but Garth’s voice stopped you. 'Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong, Y/N? I thought we were friends.’

'Hunters don’t have friends, Garth.’ You replied. 'We’re alone.’

'No, we’re not.’ He said, slightly indignant at your suggestion. 'We’re never alone. Unless we want to be.’ He paused. 'Do you want to be alone, Y/N?’

'Yes.’ You lied, not looking at him. 'I want to be alone.’ Garth put his hand in his pocket, frowning at you. You didn’t look back as you turned the handle of your door. 'Goodnight, Garth.’

'Y/N.’ He said, but you’d already shut the door behind you. You collapsed against the wood, sinking to the floor as you sobbed into your still bloody hands.

Of course you didn’t want to be alone. But who the hell would want you? You were a hunter, danger followed you. You could never have a normal life, or a normal family. This life…once it had you, you were in. You’d heard tales of hunters getting out, only to be dragged back in or killed. Not to mention the scars from your fights. You hated yourself – the way you looked, especially. And if you couldn’t love you, why would anyone else?

A knock sounded at the door. 'Go away Garth!’ You said, unable to control the sobs in your voice.

'Okay.’ Garth’s voice sounded dejected, and a few seconds later, you heard his door shut. Pulling yourself to your feet, you dragged yourself into the shower, throwing your blood covered clothes in the wash, before cleansing away the blood of the hunt. You avoided looking at yourself, checking briefly that you’d gotten all the gore off of yourself, before dressing in a t-shirt and boxers. Slipping under the covers, you switched on the motel tv, hoping for some mindless entertainment to ignore how much you hated everything else.

When another knock came at the door, you scowled, and threw the covers off, stomping to the door and throwing it open, starting your rant already. 'Goddammit Garth, I said I wanted to be alone!’

Garth wasn’t stood there. Well, he was. But only his hand and forearm were showing. A grey and red sock with bobbly eyes and some stitched on hair stared at you, wiggling a little. You scowled, ready to slam the door.

'Y/N.’ The sock moved it’s “mouth”, and you rolled your eyes. 'Please don’t slam the door.’ Garth’s puppet skills left much to be desired, and you felt a little like laughing.

'Seriously, Garth…’ You started, but the puppet shook it’s head.

'My name is Mr Fizzles. My friend Garth said you were sad, so I have come to cheer you up.’

'I’m not five, Gar-’ The puppet’s head dipped, like it was frowning at you and you folded your arms over your chest. 'Mr Fizzles.’

'It doesn’t matter if you’re five or fifty. Everyone needs to talk.’ “Mr Fizzles” said. You blinked. _This_ was Garth. He was just trying to help.

'I don’t…I don’t want to talk. I can’t. I’m sorry.’ You made to shut the door, but Garth stood up from his hiding spot, dropping his arm for a moment.

'Y/N, wait. Look. Just pretend I’m not here, okay? You need to talk.’

'Garth…’ He held his non-puppet hand.

'Bottling it up…gets you killed. I don’t wanna see that happen to you.’ He was outright pleading with you now. 'Just let me in. Please. You know nothing you tell Mr Fizzles leaves this place.’ His eyes were big and wide, and you sank a little back into yourself, letting your arms fall to your sides. Slowly, you nodded, standing back to let him in. As you shut the door, you turned. Garth smiled a little, not his usual beaming grin, but a comforting small smile that warmed you a little. 'Now. Go lay on the bed, and Dr Fizzles will be with you shortly.’ You couldn’t help a smile at that, and laid yourself on the bed, folding your hands over your stomach. Garth dropped to the floor, and his puppet appeared over the edge of the bed.

'Hello again, Y/N.’ “Mr Fizzles” said.

'Hello, Mr Fizzles.’

'How are you feeling?’

'I’m fine.’ You lied again, and Mr Fizzles did that frowning thing. You sighed. 'I’m not fine.’

'How are you not fine?’ The puppet asked, and you stared at the ceiling, biting your bottom lip. Mr Fizzles watched with his fake little bobble eyes as you contemplated your own words. 'Take your time. Think it over.’

'I’m lonely.’ You whispered, feeling a tear escape your eyes and you were suddenly grateful that Garth couldn’t see you. 'I’ve been doing this so long…alone…lost a lot of people and friends.’

'You won’t be lonely forever.’ Mr Fizzles said. 'You’ll find someone.’

'Who’s gonna want me?’ You scoffed, looking away. 'I’m broken. I don’t exist in real society. I kill things. I’m a _hunter_. A damn hideous one at that.’ You spat the final part as an afterthought, and Mr Fizzles reeled back a little.

'Who told you that, Y/N? Because they’re a liar. And Mr Fizzles doesn’t like _liars_.’

You felt a bitter laugh bubble up out of you. 'No one needs to tell me that. I haven’t been with anyone in…I don’t even remember how long. I don’t have family. I don’t have friends. They’re all gone. I’m disgusting, dirty…I’m fat and scarred and there is nothing beautiful about me.’

Mr Fizzle didn’t say anything for a moment, and you felt the tears started to flow freely, a sob escaping your throat as you curled onto your side away from the puppet. A few seconds later, the bed dipped, and Mr Fizzles, attached to Garth’s arm, floated in front of your face. 'You’re not disgusting.’ Mr Fizzles said, but his voice had changed, sounding more like Garth again. 'You’re not dirty.’ A hand on your hip and Garth rolled you over onto your back, using Mr Fizzles to wipe your tears away. The wool scratched at your nose a little and you wrinkled it. 'You’re not fat.’ He said, smiling softly. Mr Fizzles was discarded to the other side of the bed. 'And we all have scars, Y/N.’

'Garth?’ You questioned, feeling odd in the face of his gentleness. He always seemed so goofy and like he didn’t take anything seriously…but right now, the way he was looking at you made you feel like neither of you were hunters – you were just two people.

'Y/N…’ He whispered. 'I can’t stop you believing these things about yourself. I don’t know who told you this, or why you feel like this. But I do know that feeling that way is no way to live. Everyone is beautiful in their own way.’

'How can you say that?’ You replied quietly.

'Look at me.’ He shrugged with a wry smile. 'I wasn’t winning Prom King in high school. I’m dorky looking.’

'You’re not dorky.’ You said, sitting up a little. 'You’re sweet and kind, and…genuine. You’re handsome, Garth.’

'I have a big nose and big ears, and a goofy grin.’ He pointed out, looking at you sideways. 'But I don’t care about those things. Because what I do with that, is _use_ it. I fight evil, and I’m a good person! You’re a good person too, Y/N. You’re so beautiful, and you have no idea.’

'I’m not…I’m not beautiful.’ You said, looking away, only to find his hand underneath your chin. Your eyes met his and he was stared at you so intently, you felt your insides come undone.

'You are.’ He swallowed visibly. 'And if you’d let me…I’d show you.’

'How?’ Your voice was a choked whisper, and Garth lent in slowly, pressing his lips to yours. You didn’t respond for a second, until it really hit you, and you let him deepen the kiss.

'Can I show you?’ He asked, and you nodded, feeling his arms slip underneath you. He pushed the discarded puppet off of the bed, his hands threading through your hair as he kissed the very breath from your lungs, pressing himself against your body. When he broke the kiss, he pushed up off of you, pulling at the hem of your shirt, his eyes going to yours for permission. You nodded, hesitantly, closing your eyes as he pulled your shirt over your head. When you felt the cold air hit your body, your entire being went still, and you refused to open your eyes again, for fear of seeing the disgust on his face at your naked body. You hadn’t put a bra on after your shower either. He’d probably leave any moment now.

'Open your eyes.’ He was closer to you now, you could feel it. Slowly, you cracked open one eye, then both of them, looking up at him.

'You’re still here.’

'Of course I am.’ Garth smiled a little. 'And you are beautiful, Y/N.’ He moved down, kissing the space between your bare breasts as you shivered. 'Relax. I just wanna show you.’ You tried but it wasn’t happening, even as he kissed one nipple and then the other. 'Your boobs are fantastic.’ He rubbed his thumb over the skin, watching as it goosepimpled under his touch. 'Just right.’ He palmed both of them, and you moaned, starting to relax a little in the firey spell he was weaving. His fingers were pinching your nipples a little now. 'And you’re very responsive.’ He chuckled. 'Look at me.’ He requested softly, waiting for your eyes to connect with his before his hands moved to your hips as he pushed the evidence of his arousal against your groin. You threw your head back, desperate for the friction, your eyes rolling back briefly before you looked at him again. He repeated the action, smiling. 'Does it feel like I’m not attracted to you? That you aren’t beautiful. Even the face you make when you’re experiencing pleasure – you’re beautiful all round, baby.’

'My eyes are swollen from crying.’ You pointed out and he chuckled, pressing his face closer to yours, noses touching.

'You were beautiful when you were covered in vamp blood earlier. There ain’t nothing I don’t find beautiful about you, Y/N.’

'How?’ You asked, still unsure.

'You’re amazing, Y/N. You’re strong, independent, fierce. You’re funny and intelligent. How could I not find you beautiful?’ You gasped as his hands pushed at your simple cotton shorts, knowing you weren’t wearing any underwear underneath. 'Truth is…I’ve always had a little crush on you.’ Garth admitted, and you smiled.

'That’s kinda sweet.’ You blushed, pulling him down to kiss you. 'I thought you were showing me something?’

Garth sat back, smiling as he removed his own clothes. You pushed your shorts down as he pushed his pants off, and then you were both fully naked, bodies pressed against each other as you kissed passionately once more. Everything he was doing and saying, it made you feel like no one had made you feel before. 'I want you, so bad.’ He gasped, his hands in your hair once more. 'I gotta have you, baby.’

'Then have me.’ You said, pulling him closer, gasping as he slid inside you, his length filling you. He waited a moment, before beginning the slow rhythm in and out, one of his hands leaving your hair to toy with your breasts again, stoking the flames higher, making you gasp and writhe underneath him.

'I wanna see you cum.’ He said quietly. 'Wanna see that beautiful face as you cum underneath me.’ You whimpered, bringing your legs up higher around his hips. He increased his pace, his thumb finding your clit between you, rubbing at the sensitive nub. The action sent you crashing over the edge into orgasm, your head thrown back, eyes shut tightly, mouth open, keening for him to not stop. He kept up the pace, his continued touch on your clit prolonging the pleasure as he followed you into oblivion, warming your insides with his cum.

All that could be heard in the room was your mingled pants as you both came down from your high. Slowly, Garth rolled away, and you expected him to get his pants and leave. But he shifted, pulling you under the covers with him. You blinked in surprise.

'Y-you’re staying?’ You asked and he frowned before nodding, then kissing your forehead.

'Of course I am. I’m not done showing you how beautiful you are yet.’


End file.
